


Lost in the Wrong Story

by hitmewiththatfanart33, iwillsithereandtrytocontribute



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Disney, M/M, Multi, Princess and the Frog, Sleeping Beauty - Freeform, Swearing, fairytales - Freeform, minor innuendo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:21:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24796861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hitmewiththatfanart33/pseuds/hitmewiththatfanart33, https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwillsithereandtrytocontribute/pseuds/iwillsithereandtrytocontribute
Summary: When Roman abruptly excuses himself from their board game, Janus feels uneasy while the others dismiss it as his normal behavior. Later that night, when he goes to check on him, he finds a world far more beautiful than he could have ever imagined. A world Roman doesn’t want to leave this time. Follow the sides and Remus through classic Disney fairytales as they try to get their partner and brother to come home.
Relationships: DLAMP
Comments: 33
Kudos: 78





	1. Janus Reluctantly Gives Up Sleep to be a Princess

**Author's Note:**

> This was a collab with the incredible @hitmewiththatfanart33! You can find her on Tumblr with that username and me at @iwillsithereandtrytocontribute.

“Wait… You don’t like Twizzlers?” Patton asked, his head cocked in surprise, and if not for his attentiveness when it came to food, no one would’ve heard what Roman had said. The regret over having said anything was instant. Now they’d make fun of him, have him be an outsider, and it wouldn’t be a big deal if he weren’t already feeling  _ awful _ today. 

“No,” he responded quietly. His voice was weak from being weathered down by all the small slights against him throughout their entire conversation, regardless of if they were jokes or unintentional coincidences. First it was calling back to a slip-up he’d made in a past performance, next it was as silly as falling behind in the board game, then it was making fun of an idea he’d had a few weeks ago, and just before this, he’d tried to say something and had gotten talked over by an excited Logan. Each one made his chest feel tighter and tighter until they all simultaneously worked together to squeeze his heart and lungs with a vice-like grip, and any more of it would kill him. Why had no one noticed how closed-off he’d suddenly become? Were they distracted, giving him space, or did they just not care at all? He had to remind himself that no one else could feel the dread in his stomach and the aching in his chest, nor could they hear the insecurities screaming at him nearly every moment of the day, so they couldn’t simply know what he didn’t tell them. 

But how many times had he noticed something as small as Virgil fidgeting just the  _ slightest _ bit more than usual? Or when Patton’s smile was too forced? Or when Logan had been quiet for a while or looked too rigid? What about when Janus was using bitterness and sarcasm as a defense mechanism? Maybe he was more observant of social cues, but…

Virgil snorted, kicking back in his chair at the kitchen table where they’d all paused in their playing of the game. “Sorry, Princey, but you’re cancelled.” Patton and Logan unanimously reached to push his feet down before he kicked the board or one of their drinks, but the emo withdrew them himself with an eye roll. 

Logan pulled a notecard out of thin air, squinting at it before hesitantly saying, “One does not simply ‘dislike Twizzlers.’” On any other occasion, Roman would be proud that Logan had added memes to his repertoire of pop culture references or surprised that their anti-candy boyfriend was with everyone else on this. On second thought, the fact that  _ Logan  _ liked them and he didn’t made him feel worse. 

Janus took it too far. “I’m sorry, I just can’t date someone with no taste. It’s me or him.” He crossed his arms and stuck his chin up melodramatically, in wait of the  **joke** answer to his  **joke** statement. It was a  **joke** . Right?

_ If it wasn’t, they’d choose Janus and you know it.  _

Virgil screwed his mouth up in thought. “Hmm… tough one. Roman, what do you bring to the table?” He tilted back his wine glass of Gatorade, (or at least that’s what he said it was.)

And even though the question was supposed to be stupid, it had Roman’s brow creasing in thought as he zoned out on his hand of cards. What  _ did _ he bring other than self-esteem issues that brought everyone else down? How did any of them benefit from dating him? Maybe it was best if he left; did his own thing by himself like his brother did. Remus was happy doing that. 

“Ro?” Even though his gaze was trained on the table, he knew it was Patton who had spoken based on his voice alone. He knew his partners so well… But did they know him?

He forced himself to perk up, giving a smile and shrugging. “Dunno, but I have to pee, so we can decide which one of us is leaving the island when I get back,” he tried to joke, pushing his chair out and shifting his weight to turn towards the stairs. It was enough to fool them. Logan returned to the cards in his hand and Janus rolled the dice, and he took that as his cue to depart. 

“Well, hurry back kiddo,” Patton called after him. 

Roman gave a sort of half wave behind him as he started up the stairs, risking a glance back when he heard laughter. Virgil had made some joke which had Patton and Janus in hysterics, and even Logan was laughing harder than normal. Must be about him. 

Roman smiled sadly. It was almost physically painful how much he loved them. And how little they needed him. 

Roman only glanced at his door when he entered, barely noticing its drained color, chipping paint, and the deep scratches in the wood. He hadn’t placed a bathroom behind that door, nor did he put his room there, rather building up his usual escape in his mind before pushing his way inside. He walked slowly down a familiar path in the Imagination, hardly caring where it led him as long as it was away. Away from those he loved, because no matter how much it hurt being away from them, it hurt more to be with them and know he was unwanted. Roman felt hot tears trickle down his cheeks. He didn’t care; he let them fall. What did it matter if there was no one around to see?

He stared down at the dirt road, occasionally looking up at the twisting oak trees around him. He needed to visit one of his time-honored escapes. Years ago, Roman had realized that he could create the worlds he grew up watching and reading about in fairytales at the blink of an eye. Whenever his inspiration was running low or he was dealing with a particularly harsh blow to his self-esteem, (which was more often than he liked to admit), he visited one of his favorite stories because he knew how they ended, and he knew that everyone saw him as perfect no matter what, so there was no pressure or expectations. 

Where to go first? He could visit Hercules, climb Rapunzel’s tower, woo Cinderella at a ball before sweeping her off her feet when he found her again...  _ or _ … he could start with the ever comforting New Orleans. He could drown his sorrows in the smooth jazz music, welcoming glow, good food, and beautiful architecture, and if he was in the mood, he could recreate one of the swamp scenes from Princess and the Frog. Roman’s back straightened slightly as the path under his feet became cobblestone and the faintest hint of a melody wafted through the air. He just needed to clear his head and give himself a confidence boost by playing prince for a while, and then he’d return home…  _ Eventually _ . For now? New Orleans was calling his name.

***

Janus took a long sip of his… soup. Roman had taken long enough that they had decided to move his character for him, which led Janus to believe he hadn’t really gone to the bathroom. Who was supposed to be the liar here? Yet, he still hadn’t returned, and here they were cleaning up to get ready for bed. “Roman never came back,” Janus observed, trying to gauge everyone’s reactions. Why did no one seem to care?

Virgil shrugged. “Yeah, he does that sometimes. He daydreams and gets lost in the Imagination for a bit. He always comes back.” 

Patton nodded. “He likes to have some space while he works. I’ll check on him tomorrow.”

Janus swirled the dregs of the wine in his glass, staring into it, still feeling unsettled. “He left…  _ strangely _ .”

“He often leaves in such a way when he is ‘struck with inspiration,’” Logan replied. He picked up the game box and started carrying it into the next room. “I’m sure by tomorrow he’ll have a plan for a new video.” 

Janus took the rest of the dishes into the kitchen, nodding goodnight to his lovely associates as he washed up, and found himself alone downstairs. He couldn’t stop thinking in circles about Roman, trying to recall everything that had happened before he abruptly left, and wondering why he felt so uneasy about all of it. Maybe it was because everyone had taken it for granted, just assuming that he was okay simply because this was something their prince did frequently. But no… it wasn’t that. Perhaps it was the lie he’d told setting him off, though the feeling would’ve gone away after he’d told it, so it didn’t make sense. 

_ It would if he were still lying at this very moment.  _

He decided to check on Roman. Despite what the others had said, it was clear something was off about him during their game— throughout the whole  _ day _ , really. Janus furrowed his brow as he tried to remember exactly what had been said before Roman took off, but his mind kept drawing blanks. It must not have been that important if he couldn’t recall.

He knocked carefully on Roman’s door, taking in the dilapidated appearance with an uneasy stare. His gloves made the sound dull and muted, though he suspected even with them off the door would sound hollow. There was no answer. He knocked again. “Roman!” Janus risked whisper-shouting despite the risk of waking up Patton and Logan and drawing Virgil’s attention. Again, no answer. Janus took a deep breath, murmured a quick apology, and opened the door, only to be met with a dirt path leading through a forest as far as the eye could see. 

Janus didn’t shut the door behind him. He seemed to recall that leaving the door open to fantastic worlds made it easier to return, and he had no intention of staying longer than required to find Roman. He called Roman’s name every handful of trees that he passed as he hurried down the path, and he noted their increasingly gnarled appearance, like something out of The Black Cauldron. Out of breath and beginning to lose hope of ever being able to navigate this vast expanse of land, he almost considered giving up just when the dirt suddenly became cobblestone. Once he heard jazz music, Janus knew where he was.

“New Orleans?” he questioned aloud, “Why here?” The city began to take shape around him. The streets were awash with color and strangely-dressed people of all kinds, strolling from one place to another at their leisure. The sheer amount of people and buildings was overwhelming. “Why? Why me? And why did he just  _ have _ to go and chose the hardest place to be found in?” he muttered, rubbing the bridge of his nose with a heavy, hissing sigh.  _ Here goes.  _

He took the first step. 

Janus wandered aimlessly through the maze of buildings for what felt like forever with no plan and exhaustion pulling him down, but at least he had on clothes that fit perfectly into whatever bizarre setting Roman had created. Thomas had been to New Orleans before, and it certainly didn’t look like this, so either Roman was out of practice or this was based off of something. If he could only figure out  _ what _ , then maybe he could find him. That, however, was beginning to feel more and more hopeless with each begrudgingly-taken step. Out of all the people in the mindscape, he’d probably been last in line when getting close to Roman, which diluted his qualification for finding him. Why couldn’t Virgil have come? He always seemed to calm Roman down the most...

He nearly fell forward when someone with a cart pushed past him. “What was that for?!” Janus sputtered indignantly. No one had  _ ever _ ...

The old man with the gray flat cap turned slightly. “You can’t expect to loiter outside of a restaurant without getting in someone’s way. Keep moving!” His accent didn’t match anything Janus knew of New Orleans, leaving him bewildered as the man disappeared around a corner. 

Then he looked up to see the grand restaurant with its name scrawled in bold green letters across the roof of the second-floor balcony. “Tiana’s Palace.” He sighed. Of course… Roman was utterly obsessed with Disney. Why hadn’t he realized they were in The Princess and the Frog’s version of New Orleans? He sighed, running his gloved hands down his face and adjusting his cape before pushing inside. If he was right, then he knew how to find Roman. 

The entire place was dazzling, the main chandelier and all the lanterns lining either side of it casting a glow throughout the entire room that barely reached the quiet coves of the balconies. Music played in the far back from the stage, and the night sky could be seen through the glass strip in the center of the almost-arched roof. Nearly masking the tune carried out by the brass were the sounds of constant chatter and silverware clinking against plates coming from the vibrant people dining at their green-themed tables surrounded by the occasional plant. It had a warm feeling that settled his always-cold bones into a state of comfort, and he couldn’t tell if it was a him thing or if the Imagination was similar to a siren. 

“There you are, boss! We’ve been looking all over for you!” the woman at the host’s stand cried out. She had on one of those 1920’s bonet-looking things that only Roman would know the name of, neatly-arranged curls peeking out of it that had been mostly flattened with product, and a sparkling silver flapper-girl dress. Janus’ brow furrowed in confusion before he noticed the sudden change in his own appearance. 

A golden evening dress with a slit down its side clung to his skin in a way that wasn’t entirely uncomfortable, and a black fur…  _ something _ draped his shoulders. His gloves were now black as well and nearly reaching his elbows. Luckily Roman had had mercy on him and gave him a pair of comfortable flats rather than the sort of heels he imagined went with this dress, but he still rolled his eyes at the dramatics of it all and the fact he still had to fit into pieces of the princess trope, face flushing in embarrassment. He hoped the imaginary figures Roman had spawned were kind about this sort of thing unlike what he imagined  _ real  _ 1920s-ish New Orleans to be like. This  _ was  _ the 1920s, wasn’t it? It was always hard to tell with Disney.

He cleared his throat, quirking an eyebrow and daintily clasping his hands together. “Boss, you say?” Was…  _ he _ the owner of this place? He paused as he tried to decide what to do next. What if his name wasn’t Janus in this world? Would Roman really keep it as Tiana? “You can simply call me Janus,” he told the hostess in an attempt to gauge the situation. 

She pulled a confused, yet slightly amused face before barking out a laugh. “You’re so funny, Tian. I think Naveen is charming the tables upstairs if you were looking for him.” She jerked her head in the direction she was talking about before giving a pointed look at the customers that had come in behind him. “I gotta get back to work.”

Janus was still a little taken-aback by the suddenness of it all, but he quickly forced himself to adjust with a nod, and trudged up the stairs with a heavy sigh to drag Roman home. Why would anyone wear a dress like this? He could barely move his legs, much less walk up a flight of stairs. At the top, he breathed a sigh of relief, staring at the red carpet for a moment. Then he looked up and practically melted when he finally spotted Roman. Janus could almost feel the bed beneath him the moment the idea of being able to sleep popped into his head. 

He surged forward with a charming smile to fool the customers. “Naveen, dear, shouldn’t we be getting home? We have that thing, remember?” There was a hint of a threat in his voice because if there was one thing he loved more than his partners, it was sleep. 

Roman’s head snapped up to look at him in surprise before it melted back into character with a warm smile that made him look even more dashing than the red pinstripe suit did. Damn it, Roman. “There you are, love,” Roman greeted, gently pulling Janus’ hand up to his lips. “Whatever do you mean?”

“It’s a surprise, but we’ve got to go now.” He didn’t know what would happen if he broke character in front of the extras, but after watching Inception, he wasn’t going to risk being attacked by a mob. 

Roman’s face fell in the slightest, and he looked as if his whole world was collapsing for the briefest of seconds. That’s why Janus had felt so uneasy earlier. 

Roman was in denial. 

Janus forced a smile. “Or it can wait a little while,” he said, forcing happiness into his voice that he was far from feeling. Roman was  _ not  _ okay, and this was all he could do for him right now. “We do have a restaurant to run after all.”

Roman’s grin returned as if it’d never been gone at all, and he threw his arms around Janus for a quick hug. “Of course, dearest.” Roman grabbed his hand and twirled him toward the stairs in time with the music despite his partner’s limited movement and lack of enthusiasm, descending with him arm-in-arm like a royal couple, there to proudly look upon their kingdom with all its many subjects. 

Once at the bottom, Roman left him alone with a quick kiss to his temple, and Janus caught a glimpse of him conjuring a ukulele before jumping on stage to strum it wildly in time with the other musicians. He sighed heavily and put himself to work. If this was what Roman needed, then he’d be here to watch over him and make sure he got home safe. He watched his boyfriend when he could, trying to drink in and enjoy this beautiful vision Roman had created with likely a mere flick of his wrist, but he just kept being pulled this way and that by various employees. This chef needed help with this dish on one side of the room and immediately after some waiter needed Janus on the other, despite the fact that Janus had absolutely  _ no _ experience running a restaurant. He had no time to experience the world the way Roman saw it and take in the beautifully decorated restaurant, running around as he was in a completely impractical dress. Janus was  _ really _ getting tired of shuffling from place to place as time wore on. 

Later that night Janus floated down the stairs for what he swore would be the last time with his legs trapped in this fabric prison. “Ro- Naveen!” Janus called, barely catching himself from the foot of the stage. “I believe it’s time to go.”

Roman hopped down with little regard for the steps, setting down the ukulele as he did so. The band slowed the music as the night wound down, and the trumpet seemed to wail instead of its usual blasting chirp. The restaurant was slowly emptying. “The night’s only just begun, Tian,” Roman hummed with a grin. He took Janus’ hand, leading him towards the stairs  _ again _ . 

“Please give me something more practical to wear if you’re going to make me climb those again,” he whined. 

Roman seemed confused in a worried sort of way— almost as if he didn’t believe Janus was physically capable of asking such a thing— but he complied with the request and gave him something shorter. It was an improvement from the last dress, at least. The climb continued. 

Soon they stood together on the rooftop, staring out at the river below, and Janus checked that they were alone before dropping his character. There was no one on the roof but the two of them, and the people on the boats below had no way of hearing. Janus sighed in relief. No angry mind mob for him. “Roman, we need to go home. It’s late, and I’m sacrificing sleep to track you down in this ridiculous fantasy,” he pleaded tiredly. Roman was taken aback, turning quickly to stare at him.

“Janus?” Roman asked. “You’re really here?”

“Of course I am,” Janus replied indignantly. “And I’m here to take you home.” He didn’t reply. Janus tried to pull him towards the door, but he stood as still as though he were carved out of stone. “Roman, come on.” He tugged harder, but Roman wasn’t moving an inch. 

Roman let go of Janus’ hand, and their arms each respectively dropped to their sides. “I’m not ready to leave,” Roman said softly. He returned to his position, watching the river.

“What are you talking about?” Janus began slowly. He didn’t understand. “We need to get back before everyone starts to worry.”

“Then go. They won’t worry about me.” Roman didn’t seem quite the same. His glow of happiness that Janus had seen inside the restaurant, inside Roman’s fantasy, was gone. Roman sank into himself slightly, face drawn.

“Of course they will,” Janus retorted, voice breaking. Did he really not believe that they cared?

“Then why aren’t they with you?” Roman wasn’t angry, even Logan could have seen that. He was numb. Roman was numb and Janus had no idea why. Worst of all, Janus had no idea how to answer Roman’s question. Why wasn’t anyone else with him? Obviously it was because they were busy or asleep. Janus was overreacting. Right? Surely Roman was fine, at least that’s what everyone had said, but if Roman was fine, why was he here, previously convinced he was alone and… not sad. Tired.

“Roman, just come home with me,” Janus got out after too long of a silence. Roman shook his head. “Roman,” he begged. Roman took a deep breath, and without looking in Janus’ direction, flicked his fingers towards him. Janus suddenly felt his stomach drop, and he witnessed the world blur past him in a dizzying blip as he went hurtling through the Imagination, narrowly missing buildings and trees until he flew through Roman’s door. It slammed shut behind him.

Janus lay on the floor for a minute or so, trying to collect himself. His entire body felt a dull ache from where he had hit the ground. Despite what to Janus had seemed to be an _unbearably_ loud thud, no one appeared in the hallway to investigate, which was frankly rude. He stood up slowly, for he was still in quite a bit of shock, brushing himself off in an attempt to recover his pride. Luckily, his rather unceremonious exit of Roman’s room had returned him to his normal attire, and Janus had never felt so overjoyed to wear pants in his life. 

Wits properly gathered, he marched up to Roman’s door and tried the handle with every intent of giving Roman a piece of his mind as soon as he found him, only to find that the door was locked. Janus tried it again and again to no avail. It didn’t take long for him to give up all attempts at staying quiet so as not to wake the others. “Roman! Roman!” Janus yelled in both extreme frustration and terrible worry. What if he didn’t come back at all? There was no answer from the Imagination, but it did draw Virgil from his room and wake up Patton and Logan.

“What is the meaning of this, Janus?” Logan asked irritably as he shuffled out in his unicorn onesie. “Need I remind you that uninterrupted sleep is necessary to maintain Thomas’ and my circadian rhythm in order to function optimally throughout the day?”

“Did you understand any of that?” Patton whispered to Virgil. Virgil shook his head.

Janus whipped back around to the door and continued to angrily bang on it with the side of his fist. “Roman is still in the Imagination.” Patton gently pulled Janus’ hand away from the door, and he yanked it out of his grip.

“Yes. As we told you earlier, he does this often. It is no cause for alarm,” Logan answered calmly.

“Is that not in and of itself a  _ cause for alarm _ ?” Janus hissed, crying, “You all let him run off over and over. Alone. Have you  _ never _ had an  _ inkling _ that something’s wrong?” Logan stayed quiet, and Janus felt guilty for being so harsh, but he was immensely worried. He’d thought that Roman had overexaggerated the situation as he was wont to do, only to be proved  _ beyond _ wrong. “I don’t care what you believe, I’m getting back to Roman.” Patton barely stopped Janus from launching himself back at the door.

“Alright kiddo. Let’s stop and think,” Patton said holding Janus’ hand tightly. “Why don’t you go to your room and get some sleep while the rest of us figure out what to do?” 

Janus shook his head vehemently. “I’m not leaving until Roman returns.”

Virgil spoke up for the first time. “Janus, you won’t do Roman any good exhausted. I would know.”

“I’m not tired.” His eyes were starting to well up, proving that he was, in fact, tired. Tired and emotional as all hell. 

Virgil raised an eyebrow, merciful enough to not mention the water dripping down Janus' cheeks. “Sure, Jan. You’re swaying where you stand. You look like you’ve been running around for hours.” Janus tilted his head back to try and stop gravity from pulling the tears from his eyes, blinking and groaning and hating that Virgil was right. 

His walls were breaking down, and his shoulders were slowly sagging further and further. “He’s in so much denial, and it  _ hurts.  _ What if he doesn’t want to come home at all?”

Virgil’s face softened. “Come here,” he said softly, opening his arms. Janus all but collapsed into them. His boyfriend’s warmth enveloped him, arms comforting and familiar, softly tracing circles on his back. Then Janus was sobbing at the mere thought that Roman needed this more than him, but never once in all those times he’d run away did he have it.

“Jay, what happened?” Virgil asked, swaying them side to side. Patton and Logan watched sympathetically and held hands. None of them liked to see any of their partners like this, so when it did happen, they felt hopeless. 

“He made New Orleans from the Princess and the Frog and had me running around in a ridiculous evening dress that kept me from moving my legs more than a foot apart. I felt like a penguin,” he half-laughed, half-sobbed. His voice darkened. “Then I tried to get him to come home, saying that you were all probably worried, and he said you weren’t. He was so  _ numb _ . I kept begging him… Then he just— he just  _ threw me out. _ He didn’t even think I was really there at first.”

“Oh,” Virgil and Logan both murmured, shocked. 

Patton’s comment was a whimpered, “Poor Roman.” 

“But you’re right,” Janus relented, squeezing Virgil tighter with his chin tucked behind Virgil’s shoulder. “We should sleep. He’s at least safe right now, and his world was _ beautiful _ . I can see why he likes it there.”

Logan nodded slowly. “We can retrieve Remus in the morning to unlock the door.”

“Last time I tried to wake him up in the middle of the night,” Virgil said, “He stabbed me.” He shuddered at the memory, and Janus giggled a little. Seemed like Remus. 

“Jan, you wanna sleep in my room?” Patton offered. It provided the two of them, (and Roman), a comforting feeling, but for Virgil and Logan it had the opposite effect. 

“Yeah,” he admitted. He needed the warmth tonight. 

“Virgil?” Logan prompted. 

“Yep.”


	2. I Knew You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman’s absence is affecting Patton a lot more than he lets on, and given the opportunity, he goes after him alone. Roman makes it clear he’s there to stay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part two of my collab with @hitmewiththatfanart33! You can find both of us on Tumblr.

Janus blinked owlishly as the early morning sunlight flooded into the room. That was strange. His room didn’t  _ get _ sun. It took him a moment to realize where he was, but Patton’s arm around his torso quickly gave it away to his still-exhausted brain, as did the thousands of pictures lining the walls. Patton pulled Janus in tighter, wrapping him in his warm embrace until he was flush against his back, and oh how Janus longed to shut his eyes and melt into him. After the night he’d had, Janus could sleep for  _ hours _ more. He shook his head slightly with the knowledge he couldn’t, and he forced his eyes to stay open, however heavy their lids were. Unfortunately, being awake meant that everything was starting to come back to him. 

His heart ached, wishing Roman could be here with them. Janus must have moved slightly because Patton opened his eyes and removed his arm from around him to reach for his glasses. Janus sat up with a quiet groan, almost instantly missing Patton’s warmth, and he shivered as a chill ran over him. 

“Morning, Honey-Dee,” Patton yawned. It was a huge one that merited a small, cute head shake afterwards. 

“Good morning, my love,” Janus hummed, (voice true to his favorite pet name), barely holding in a matching yawn. Patton giggled and cupped his cheek to give him a quick morning kiss as well as nuzzle their noses together. Logan knocked on the door frame— when had he gotten there?— effectively drawing their attention away from one another. He looked entirely too fond. “And my other love.” Virgil appeared behind Logan. “And my—”

“Yeah, yeah. We get it, Jay,” Virgil interrupted. “We’ve got more important things to do.” Janus decided not to mention the deep blush that had appeared on Virgil’s cheeks. He was right of course, but that didn’t take away from Janus’ satisfaction at flustering his partners. 

Logan, on the other hand, was much more serious. He’d always been the most insufferable morning person. Knowing him, he’d been up for hours. “I am a little surprised at you, Janus. I would have expected you up by now seeing how worried you were last night. Given what you described, I was up rather early in order to begin our search for Roman.” 

Janus rolled his eyes. He flicked his hand at Logan, putting him in the dress he had worn the night before, and  _ god  _ did he look good, shoulders bare and more elegantly dressed than they’d ever seen him. “You try running a restaurant in  _ that. _ ” Logan’s blush was matched by his partners. Now was  _ not _ the time to be useless gays, but god dammit if that wasn’t just what they were.

“I may have made an error in judgement,” Logan acknowledged. Virgil discreetly kicked him. Patton didn’t notice, but Janus still caught it and delighted in the rapidly deepening blush that came across their nerd’s face. “I apologize for being short with you,” he finished sheepishly, returning himself to his regular shirt and tie.

“I convinced him to let you sleep in,” Virgil explained. Janus thanked his stars for his emo, for if he’d gotten a second less of sleep, he was sure he’d commit several different crimes today before blacking out. Several more than usual, that is. 

Patton cocked his head to the side. “It’s not like you to be up so early, Virge.”

“It is if I never slept,” Virgil said, doing finger guns in a poor attempt to lighten the situation. Patton crossed his arms, giving Virgil his Pattonted death stare. 

“We’ll talk about that later.”

Janus swung his legs out of bed and stood up. A wave of his hand removed any rumples from his clothing— he’d been too tired to change last night— restoring it to its crisp, clean norm, and as a finishing touch, he snapped his shoes on before elegantly twirling his bowler hat between his fingers, placing it on his head. Patton did the same, the only difference being him switching out his cat onesie for his normal clothing. Janus took a deep breath. “Alright. Let’s get Remus.”

***

Patton hid behind Logan, as did Virgil, which was why he held his hand so that their brave Janus, who had put up with Remus’ chaos for years could do the talking. Logan was probably the warmest of all of them, even though Ro—  _ smile, Patton _ — Patton himself was a pretty cozy temperature. He didn’t know what it was. He just radiated heat that Patton could feel even from merely hovering close to his strong shoulders. The same couldn’t be said for Janus and Virgil, however, for the two of them were cold as corpses— ew no, he was too close to Remus’ room gross gross gross…

“Hello, Remus,” Janus greeted smoothly. Patton loved his voice so much. 

“Riddle me this: if my anaconda don’t want none unless you got buns, what  _ does  _ he want?” The way he spoke— like they were prey— made Patton squeak and squeeze his boyfriend’s cold hand tighter. 

“For you to open the imagination. Roman locked us out.” Janus sounded annoyed already, and Patton peered around Logan’s shoulder to brave a look at the scene. 

Remus lounged languidly against his door, holding it seductively, but at least there wasn’t any blood involved, and Janus had his arms crossed with his weight shifted to one leg in impatience with the duke. “Not my problem,” Remus shrugged, about to close the door. Janus stuck his foot inside. 

“It is when he’s your brother and might not be coming home unless you help us,” he snapped. Then his tone softened, his eyes flickered to the floor, and he looked so uncharacteristically troubled. “He’s really hurting right now, Remus.  _ Please _ .”

“Only if I get to call Patton daddy.”

“ _ No _ ,” Patton’s partners all quickly said in unison. Patton blushed. He was still scarred from figuring out what that meant after being called it so many times, but he was used to it by now. 

Remus considered Janus, peering to the left of his door to get a good look at the other three of them, and Patton shuddered. “Fine,” he groaned after a long silence. “I can’t unlock it, but I can use my door.”

Janus stepped aside to let Remus out, and he shut his door behind him, closed his eyes, then opened it again. It was just a swirling black portal of some sort. “In you go! There’s no telling where you’ll end up— it’s a  _ bit _ chaotic in there— but if you think about  _ brother dearest _ long enough, you should be able to find him.” Remus sounded incredibly impish, which made Patton a bit nervous, but when it came to any of his partners, he would do anything. He took a deep breath, stepped around Logan, and charged through the door before he could be stopped. He only had one thought on his mind: Roman. 

When he stumbled through to whatever side, dimension, or however else he could have  _ possibly _ reached this place from Remus’ door, he was in a lovely khaki skirt with a loose-fitting, light blue shirt tucked into it beneath a black corset of sorts. His feet were bare— that was probably the first thing he noticed because suddenly there was  _ grass _ — and everything around him was so green and alive. Nearby a gray... scarf?... he assumed to be his rested on a low-hanging tree branch. Under that same tree sat a basket.

Everything was starting to feel eerily familiar...

Nostalgic.

He let himself breathe in the fresh air that smelled of spring while he figured it out, letting the sun filtering down from the gaps in the trees hit his freckled arms. This place felt like home. All he could hear were birds chirping their beautiful songs without a trace of another human in sight or earshot, which troubled him, but he didn’t let it deter him from his mission. He’d be found by his loves if he got lost, right? Of course. Why would he even doubt it?

Though he tried to think bright thoughts, his smile felt queasy and he suddenly dreaded having rushed through the door alone. Why wasn’t anyone else here yet? And where  _ was _ here? His breaths began to come in heavier, and he spun in a circle. Everything looked the same. These were just trees in the woods with no markings, no one to hold his hand, and certainly no one to lead the way. 

That just meant he had to figure things out for himself. Janus had said fairy tales, right? Well then which one was he in?

Oh!  _ Oh! _ Black corset, tan skirt, no shoes… Was he— was he  _ Aurora?! _ Patton squealed, unable to stop himself from jumping up and down in the soft greenery.  _ ‘I know how to find Roman,’ _ he sang in his head, though really Roman would be coming to him. 

He clasped his hands behind his back innocently, looking around before beginning to sing. He took a big, slow, almost dancing step, liking the way the skirt moved with his leg. “I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream. I know you, that look in your eyes is so familiar a gleam.” He twirled, and soon he was getting into the swing of things, freely sashaying around the forest floor. 

“And I know it’s true that visions are seldom all they seem, but if I know you, I know what you’ll do: you’ll love me at once, the way you did once…” Patton suddenly stopped, his chest throbbing as the full force of everything hit him. “... upon a… dream.” Then, of course, he was crying. What if Roman really didn’t come for him? What if he didn’t want them to find him so badly that he would just leave Patton alone? What if he never got his fingers kissed again, or had someone to sleepily sing with him in the morning? What if no one ever carried him to bed when he accidentally fell asleep during a movie? What if he never got to tell Roman how much he loved him again?  _ God,  _ he missed him so terribly much already. 

He pressed his back against one of the trees with the gray bark, burying his face in his hands to wet them with tears in private. Someone gently tried to pry them away, and Patton, thinking he was alone, screamed loud enough to send the birds flying. There was nowhere to scramble backwards to, so his first instinct was to push the person away from him as hard as he could. They didn’t so much as budge. And though his original effort failed, Patton was instantly overwhelmed with joy because he’d know that broad, firm chest anywhere. His head shot up. 

Heart still pounding, he grinned, exclaiming, “Ro—” 

“Shh. Dance with me?” Patton frowned, hesitantly offering his hands with halting movement as he tried to discern Roman’s face. He hid his sad eyes behind a concerned expression, and in a moment the look was gone, turning into a too-wide, too-bright smile. Roman took Patton’s hands, pulling him away from the tree, and began twirling him in time to music that played softly from thin air. Roman hummed along as they danced without saying a word. 

Patton tried to enjoy it, he really did. Roman was an elegant dancer and Patton enjoyed being his partner, but something was obviously wrong. Patton couldn’t pinpoint the denial as accurately as Janus, but as in tune as he was to emotion, it was hard to miss the raw feeling in Roman’s face, posture, even the world he had created. “Roman—” Patton tried again. 

Roman pulled Patton closer, pressing a sweet kiss to his cheek, but never once did he look him in the eye, instead gazing off somewhere behind him. “It’s alright, Patton. You’re allowed to cry,” he murmured. Patton almost laughed. 

“It’s not about that. I mean, I suppose it is... I just didn’t think you were coming for me, and I missed you so much it hurt.” Patton was far from laughing now. He felt tears burn trails down his cheeks, and their dancing came to a halt along with the music. Roman lifted a hand to wipe the tears off of his face. 

“You missed me?” Roman asked haltingly. His face slackened for a moment before being drawn back into that fake smile. It almost looked like a glitch, the sudden changes scaring Patton. “We only met but a few minutes ago. Did I make that large of an impression on you, darling?” he teased. 

No no  _ no… _ He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t— “Roman, we’ve been dating for  _ months _ .” Patton was full-on crying now. He hadn’t quite believed Janus until now, for there was no way Roman felt so unwanted with all of them around. And yet… here they were. Standing in the middle of a serene forest that his ever so talented love had created, Patton uncontrollably crying his eyes out and Roman standing still as a statue because he didn’t know how to cope. How was it that Patton was only now feeling the depth of Roman’s insecurities? How was he only now realizing how  _ hurt _ Roman was? 

Roman dropped Patton’s hands reflexively, taking a small step back. “Patton… Why are you here?” 

“We— We came for you. Janus told us what happened and—”

“I told him not to follow me. I need— I need some space.” He ran a hand through his hair. 

Patton took a step forward. “You need to come  _ home _ .” Roman stepped further away, turning his back to Patton. “Roman?” He tried to put his hand on Roman’s shoulder, but he pulled away. 

“Where were you when Janus came for me?” Roman asked hollowly. “You leave me alone for  _ days _ before showing up randomly to discuss our  _ feelings _ ? I’m sick of it, Patton. I just want to be left alone.” Did he, or was he trying to push them away? Roman turned his head slightly towards Patton, and he swore he would never forget that apathetic goodbye. “Don’t try to follow me.” His stomach sank in dread. 

Then Roman began walking through the trees, and behind him tumbled in thick fumes of fog. Patton desperately tried to follow him, but his regal form was quickly enveloped in the mist like a fleeting vision of a ghost that Patton had been graced with, leaving him to stumble around blindly, tripping over tree roots and low bushes. Roman wasn’t gone. He wouldn’t just leave him like this. It was a joke, right?  _ Please  _ let it be a joke. 

He kept going and going and going, too scared of being left alone to stop, too scared of losing Roman to slow down. At one point he walked face-first into a tree branch, breaking his glasses, though it wasn’t like he could see in the first place. He threw them to the ground with a sobbing scream of frustration, then kept moving. 

He had to keep searching. He  _ had  _ to. 

“Roman?” Patton called. “Roman, this isn’t funny. Come  _ out _ .” He finally found the end to the fog, but no Roman. Grief and fear twisted together to wrench his stomach. “Roman!’ Patton yelled louder and louder, diving back into the fog,  _ screaming _ Roman’s name until his voice was hoarse. He fell more times than he could count, tearing his skirt and even his skin on more than just a few occasions. Wherever Roman was, he wasn’t here anymore. Slowly, the fog cleared, leaving a beaten-down Patton to numbly wander the forest. 

He was alone.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am beyond stoked about this series, I promise we have a lot more in store!


	3. We Met in a Storm (It's Only Right We Part in One Too)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan wakes up on a rowboat... He can't speak.

Logan felt his eyes go wide, and his hand flew out to reach for Patton instinctively, but the cat hoodie he’d given him disappeared into the blackness with the rest of him and Janus was frozen in dreadful shock. Virgil burst forward, about to do the same thing as Patton. Logan was grateful he’d been able to grab him by the hood this time. Virgil tried to shake him off, protesting, “Let me go. I’m going after him.”

Logan looked to Remus for answers. He held an expression of surprise with undertones of worry, and when he caught Logan staring, he tried to look disinterested. “Well there’s no finding him now unless he gets to Roman,” Remus sighed, “I liked Patton. He was a cool dude.” Then he shrugged. “Oh well.”

Janus recovered enough to speak. “What do you mean there’s no finding him?! This is  _ your  _ realm.  _ You  _ control it. Go get him!” He was fuming, trying to control the volume of his voice, and the silence of his rage was all the more scary. Virgil had seemingly calmed down, so Logan released him to let him go to Janus. Virgil knew just what to do, coming up beside him and taking his trembling fist between his own two hands. 

Remus looked unphased. “Roman’s pretty much got complete control over it right now. The most I can do is make a few of his extras naked. He’s made too many places that are completely supporting themselves like a real world, so until he unravels them, I’m kinda useless,” Remus said, tapping his fingers on his door frame for a minute. Then he pushed himself away from it and raised his hands in an ‘I don’t know what to tell you’ gesture similar to shrugging. 

“So then we all go in together, find Roman, and if Patton isn’t with him, we have Roman find him,” Logan planned. He was good at that: being the leader of the group and staying level-headed until he found time to be alone. 

“Pretty much,” Remus agreed. “Do hurry though. I was trying to create an army of rats before you so rudely interrupted…” Then he added, quietly, “I think one of them gave me rabies.”

A relaxed— Virgil truly worked wonders— Janus cut in. “Oh you’re coming with us.”

***

The plan failed miserably.

The last thing Logan remembered was leading Virgil by the hand through the portal of sorts with Janus and Remus behind him in the line and feeling vaguely like a child using the crosswalk. Now, as he blinked back into confused consciousness, he registered that he was being held up under the arms by someone as if he’d fainted. He must’ve just fallen forward from where he was sitting. “Adrien? Are you okay?!” Logan groggily leaned forward into the warmth. That voice…

His eyes flew open and he sat up straight, though when he tried to cry out Roman’s name in relief, nothing would come. His throat felt… empty. Like the entire thing was made of air, and to say he hadn’t had a nightmare like this before would be a lie. His brow furrowed, hand moving to instinctively paw at his throat. Then he caught sight of what Roman was wearing and it all began to make sense. 

He traced the red sash tied around his waist that offered a nice transition between his white low-cut shirt and blue slacks, and when he looked back up to his face, Roman was blushing. Logan frowned. He wasn’t too concerned with what he himself was wearing, focusing on trying to find a way to get Roman home without his voice, though he could tell it was a nice blue-colored suit with black highlights and a handkerchief in the pocket. He was lucky it wasn’t a dress, given what Janus had shown him. 

For now, he supposed it wouldn’t hurt to… He threw his arms around Roman’s chest, pulling him close and listening to his heartbeat in a bone-crushing embrace. For a moment he’d been worried they wouldn’t find Roman. Sometimes it was nice to be wrong. Then once he’d gotten it all out of his system, he pulled back to glare at him, for he was beyond mad that out of all the stories he could’ve chosen, he had to choose the one where Logan was mute. They always did love to silence him. As Logan crossed his arms, he realized that his sudden movement had caused the floor to shake, only just noticing he was unfortunately in a boat.

Logan opened his mouth to yell at Roman before shutting it firmly, satisfied with shooting him a dirty look, and ran through every way he knew of nonverbal communication. He quickly signed “Do you know sign language?” in ASL, but Roman stared at him blankly. Logan cursed inwardly. Then he tried tapping out the same message but with Morse code, and he got more blank looks. 

If Virgil had been here, he could at least have translated. On the days Virgil felt too anxious to speak or simply wanted to tell Logan something only meant for the two of them, he and Logan would sit close and tap out messages on each other’s skin or squeeze the other’s hand, or sometimes even that would be too much for Virgil and they simply tapped on the nearest piece of furniture. It certainly would have been the most effective form of communication. Logan didn’t want to have to dramatically mouth words, so he would have to settle for hand gestures and facial expressions instead.

He glanced around the lake, taking in the weeping willows along the banks accompanied by fireflies flitting about the cattails that stuck out from the water. Above them was a gorgeous arching bridge, painted a glossy white. Stars twinkled in the vast sky overhead. Logan had always been fascinated by the stars. He could instantly tell that these stars were not accurate to the actual night sky, but he delighted in them nonetheless, and if the situation had been less dire he would’ve spent hours mapping his own new constellations. If only he’d tried to spend more time in Roman’s world, seen his way of doing things, then maybe he could have done just that. Meanwhile Roman watched Logan with the same dreamy look he was giving the stars, content to simply enjoy him enjoying the world Roman had created. Logan was struck, as the rest of his partners had been, by the beauty of what Roman could make out of nothing.

“I must say,” Roman said at last, “that this is going a lot smoother than my other stories the past couple of days.” Logan raised an eyebrow.  _ Days? _ He wanted to say.  _ It’s only been 10 hours, 14 minutes, and 23 seconds, 24 seconds, 25 seconds... _ Roman chuckled, obviously misinterpreting Logan’s meaning. “I know, right? But this?” Roman looked around them. “This is nice.” 

_ My silence is nice? Roman, how can you be so far from logic when I’m sitting right in front of you? _

Roman started humming Kiss the Girl and Logan sighed inwardly. If he was only able to  _ speak, _ he was sure he could convince Roman to return with him in no time. Of course he was in the  _ one _ fairytale where he couldn’t do that. Logan waved to get Roman’s attention. “Yes, my love?” Roman asked as his gaze was drawn to Logan. 

Logan mimed looking around, cringing at the awkwardness of his gestures. “Look out?” Roman glanced around. “I don’t see anything.” Frustrated, Logan mimed harder. “Look where?” Logan looked around again, then shrugged dramatically. “Where?” Logan nodded. He pointed to his glasses, and mimed a jacket around his shoulders. Roman’s eyes narrowed slightly as he realized Logan was asking where Patton was. Logan could tell Roman knew what he was asking, but instead of acknowledging Logan’s actual question, Roman intentionally misinterpreted it. 

“Where’s my jacket?” Roman asked. He missed Logan’s frantic, angry head shake as he turned to grab what Logan assumed was his coat that had been slung on the side of the boat. He placed it gently around Logan’s shoulders. Logan scowled at him and shrugged it off— even if he wasn’t fuming, he already had several layers on— resisting the urge to flip Roman off. He would at least understand  _ that _ sign. 

Had he been worried about Roman once Janus informed him of the situation? Yes. Did he want to strangle him? Yes. Could those two things coexist? When it came to Roman,  _ yes _ . 

Logan tried again with a different question, remembering something Janus had said, and with both palms flat and facing each other, he framed the sides of his head and pushed them forward. It didn’t make much sense until he pointed at Roman, then tapped his temple.

“Do I know _ … _ ” Roman guessed correctly. 

Following pointing to himself, he pointed at the ground, and Roman looked troubled. “Do I know you’re here?” He looked away to some far-off point on the lake they were in. A bitter scoff from Roman, and strangely Logan’s heart was suddenly pounding. “Of course I know you’re here. You won’t stop glaring at me… Why won’t you all leave me alone?!” Roman cried, almost angrily if not for the tears suddenly in his eyes. Something began stirring up the waters, and Logan clutched the sides of the boat as it began rocking back and forth.

Who else had Roman run into before Logan? How long had he been unconscious? What had Roman done with Patton? He was beginning to sound like Virgil. 

Maybe it was a good idea to protect himself and play along; be placid and dumb just so Roman wouldn’t leave him. At least if he could stay here with him, he wouldn’t be alone, and he could watch over him. But what happened when the fairytale ended? Did Roman leave, destroy the world, or would he stay in this one if left alone? Could Logan do that to his other partners? Well, it wouldn’t be forever, would it? Besides, Roman needed him more. He rolled his shoulders back, took a deep breath, and…

He innocently cocked his head, pretending to be confused by Roman’s meaning. “What are you doing?” Roman asked slowly. 

Logan just grinned at him. 

“Logan…?” He made it a point to look extra confused, for he recalled that Roman had called him Adrien, and if he could sell Roman on the fact that that was his actual name, then maybe he’d believe he was another of his creations. “Adrien?”

He nodded slowly, but apparently he’d done something wrong because Roman had this look on his face as if he had a knife twisting into his stomach. 

“Cut the bullshit, Logan,” he snapped, “You’re afraid of me, aren’t you?”  _ Of course not _ , he tried to say with his eyes. ”I’m Roman, the unstable boyfriend who nobody really likes and who’s just kept around so I don’t  _ feel bad.  _ You all  _ hate  _ me _.” Roman, can’t you see how much we love you?  _ He gently reached out a hand to touch Roman’s arm comfortingly, but he yanked it away. “You can’t tell me that I’m not just the most annoying human being out there, you can’t tell me I don’t ruin everything, and you can’t tell me that you all  _ want _ to be here. I mean, come on, you’re just being nice because that’s what you  _ do  _ even if someone is a complete  _ fuckup _ ,” he vented, and at the end of it all, his voice was cracking and the tears were seeping through. “I’m only good for ideas, and lately I haven’t even been able to do that.”

The boat was rocking heavily from side to side, the wind was picking up, and the beautiful scene surrounding them went dark as clouds blocked out the moon and chased the fireflies away. Logan swallowed around the lump forming in his throat. He felt so helpless. All he had were his words and those were gone from his lips, so he was left with nothing but a heaving chest and fear in his eyes while Roman’s storm raged on, putting him in real danger. 

Then, with the wind whipping the soft chestnut hair Logan so loved to run his fingers through during the delirious nights they used to spend on the couch, Roman screamed in frustration and lightning struck a weeping willow nearby, setting it ablaze. That was when Logan caught sight of the other electricity: huge menacing brown eels swirling the murky water, circling their small rowboat to try and topple them over. He had been too distracted by that to notice Roman standing up. By the time he did, it was too late, for Roman jumped into the water with a splash that never came. 

The boat tipped upside down, and when he submerged in the icy water, so did the world. 

He wasn’t in the lake anymore…

He was at the climax of the movie. 

  
  



	4. Uh-oh It's the Trash Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman can't keep running from his problems forever...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So something messed up with the formatting in all of the chapters except for the third one, and a lot of important points were confusing/didn't hit, but they should be fixed now, and you can check them out if you'd like! You can find both of us on Tumblr with the same usernames.

Roman hit the ground running. Surely if he ran with no particular direction they couldn’t find him, right? He dashed between trees and jumped over roots, taking some small comfort in the repetition of the sound of his boots hitting the ground. He wasn’t entirely sure where he was, for he didn’t remember consciously making this world, and most of the Disney movies he grew up watching had trees in them. Though not many trees looked like  _ this _ : all twisted and curled, ferns and other various jungle-looking flora littering the floor. No, these woods were far from something out of a Disney movie. They had an eerie feeling to them, and the chirps and calls of unfamiliar bugs and night creatures set him on edge.

“Why are you being so  _ difficult _ ?” a nasaly voice droned. Roman flinched, whipping around in a circle to find the source, and his heart only beat faster when some sort of wispy green fog menacingly circled him. It was so  _ cold _ ; colder than the already-freezing night-time air. However, that wasn’t why he trembled.

The fog curled and condensed right before his face to form the disembodied head of a large green cat-looking thing, smiling at him crookedly with large, sharp fangs… The Cheshire Cat from Tim Burton’s adaptation of Alice in Wonderland… 

Remus.

He should’ve known from the second he stepped foot in this world that this wasn’t his creation like all the other places had been. “It’s none of your business,” he snarled, “Go away.” He tried to get around him so that he could leave, but the floating head only followed his movement.

“Oh, but it is.” A set of paws took shape, and Remus rested his chin on them with an aggravating look of amusement. “You’re in my world if you couldn’t tell. And I had one hell of a time creating it.” He tilted his head side to side with each word for emphasis. “Whatever happened to making room for new stuff by getting rid of the old?” Remus complained.

The last thing Roman needed right now was to play cat-and-mouse with his brother, so he turned around and began running, hoping to get enough momentum to hop worlds again, though it would be challenging considering this wasn’t his world and was thus less easy to manipulate. He barely got ten feet before a fully-formed cat was suddenly pouncing on him, pinning his back to the ground. “My world,” Remus repeated with a viscous hiss. “Meaning you’re going to  _ listen. _ ” He could feel Remus’ rancid breath against his face, and the terror that he would bite his head off at any given minute overwhelmed him.

Roman said nothing, too busy teetering on the verge of hyperventilation. “Now… What is your fucking problem?”

And in response to the exhaustion, the heartache, the stress, and the fear… Roman’s wide eyes welled up with stinging tears, and he began to cry. Remus looked incredibly uncomfortable.  _ Great _ . Even his own brother didn’t know what to do with him. The new addition of Roman’s pitiful blubbering noises and the way he squeezed his eyes shut tight to make the world go away seemed to shake Remus out of his surprise, and the heavy weight on his chest suddenly felt less concentrated and more… human. “Hey, hey, hey… I’m sorry I scared you, I just thought you were going for a Disney theme, so I added my own twist to it… Good old Tim Burton, you know? It’s pretty much the only thing we can both sit through without killing each other.” Remus sounded like someone who had no experience with children trying to comfort a screaming baby.

Roman slowly blinked his eyes open. Remus was still sitting on his stomach, which wasn’t the most comfortable— cat  _ or _ human— and he looked down at his face worriedly. “Get off me. I can hardly breathe,” he complained. Remus quickly complied, sitting back on his heels to the side of him, offering a hand to help him sit up.

Once he was upright, he stayed quiet a moment, resting his elbows on his knees. Then he spoke. “I’m a handful, okay? They don’t deserve to have to deal with that, so I just thought that maybe coming to the place where I’m in control and people will still love me even when I make a mistake was what was best for everyone. Nobody was supposed to come after me. None of this was supposed to happen.” He sniffled and angrily wiped at his tears.

“Everyone with a brain is a handful, you blood clot. They obviously love you anyways, or else they would’ve ditched you a  _ long _ time ago,” Remus said, trying to cheer him up.

“They have,” Roman said quietly.

“What? No, I was just with them.” 

“That’s not what I meant… Patton just disappeared for several months one time after Christmas. He didn’t even say goodbye, and I  _ needed _ him. Then I almost caused Virgil to leave completely, Logan left when I was upset over that one breakup, and… Janus hasn’t left me yet. He hasn’t been around long, but I think I just gave him a pretty good reason to.” This felt cathartic. Like he’d been in an uneasy or heightened state for so long that he forgot what it felt like to just be empty. 

Remus chewed on his lip, cocking his head, and his next words sounded forced, but he meant well. “They need you too…” Roman barely caught him muttering  _ ‘those useless infants’  _ under his breath, and he almost snorted. “Did you ever  _ try _ to go after Patton?”

“No,” he admitted, guilt stirring up in his stomach. 

“Weren’t you also the reason Virgil came back? And isn’t Janus still looking for you somewhere in this jumbled mess of yours? Sounds to me like you’re just being an idiot,” Remus said with a shrug. Somehow his careless, goofy way of going about things calmed Roman down more than anything else could. 

“I guess.”

“I’m really not the one you should be talking to. All I’m good for is butt jokes,” he said, not entirely incorrectly. Roman chuckled a little. 

Remus sighed. “Virgil’s no stranger to running away to brood; he’d be way better at this than me.” Then he turned his head, eyes wide with sudden thought. “He needs a nickname for that specifically. Hmm…” 

He snapped. “Got it: Forest Whump,” he announced proudly, “Contains running  _ and _ angst.”

Then Roman was truly cracking up. It  _ was  _ pretty funny, and the thought of late night Tim Burton movie marathons and stealing each other’s clothes suddenly made Roman miss his stormcloud more than words could describe, so maybe Remus was right. “Yeah,” he said fondly. “I guess I really messed up.”

“Yep!” Remus trilled gleefully.

Roman nodded. “Thank you, brother.”

“No prob, Bob!” Remus faded away, leaving just his deranged, but somewhat well-meaning smile before even that disappeared.

When Roman hopped worlds he landed in yet another forest. Free from Remus’ influence, it felt a lot more familiar, like an old friend. He was fairly sure what fairytale he was in, (he had to be, he’d created the world after all), he just didn’t know  _ where _ in it he was. He ran until he reached the cottage, exactly where he had instinctually known it would be. Then he walked upstairs, pushing two of the undersized beds together in the corner to form one large enough to sit comfortably on, wondering what to do while he waited on Virgil to inevitably show up. After all, the others seemed to find him no matter what he did. They practically fell into his lap. 

So he waited. 

And he waited…

The isolated silence began to weigh on his mental state. 

Suddenly, where he had originally felt calmed by his conversation with Remus, all sorts of conflicted feelings began to arise. Roman knew Remus was trying to help, and for a while his words  _ did _ make him feel better... until he started really thinking about what he’d said, that was. When Patton disappeared for months, he did nothing. When Logan felt ostracized during the courtroom trial, he had  _ said _ nothing. Hell, he had been happy to have Virgil gone… at first. 

Patton must still resent him for never coming for him. Is that why he never paid any mind to Roman’s absences? Was it payback? Did Logan still loathe him for abandoning their college diploma to be a YouTuber? What about Virgil? He couldn’t count how many times he’d been flat-out cruel to him. And with Janus, when he had first told them his name, he’d laughed at him just like he had with Virgil and treated him like a villain just because of his own conflicting emotions. 

Now he’d left them who knows where in the Imagination. 

_ “Roman, just come home with me.” _

_ “I just missed you so much it hurt.” _

_ “You need to come  _ **_home_ ** _.” _

_ “Roman, this isn’t funny. Come  _ **_out._ ** _ ” _

_ “Where is Patton?” _

_ “Roman!” _

_ “Why are you being so  _ **_difficult_ ** _?” _

_ “Roman!” _

_ “Now… What is your fucking problem?” _

_ “Roman!” _

__ He gasped brokenly, pressing a hand to his mouth as the tears began freely falling one after the other onto his lap, and it felt as if every atom making him up trembled. His prince uniform slowly phased into black sweatpants and his favorite red hoodie so that they could hold him together when he couldn’t. He curled into himself. 

_ Would they even want him back given everything he’d done and continued to do? If they found him would they just try to let him down easy?  _ This and more swirled around Roman’s head relentlessly, and no matter how many times he wiped his eyes, they were quickly replenished. __

*******

Virgil walked straight into a tree as he entered the Imagination. He stumbled back, expecting Janus to catch him, and instead fell to the ground. Right as he was about to shoot a teasing remark at Janus, Virgil realized he wasn’t there. Neither were Logan and Remus. He stood up and turned in a frantic circle. “Very funny guys. Come out Remus, you bitch.” No response other than the wind rustling through the leaves. Virgil laughed nervously. “You’ve had your fun. Come on.” Nothing.

He was in the middle of the woods with no way of knowing how to get out or find help, and they weren’t here with him. 

He fumbled around to find his hoodie to calm his rapidly increasing panic and felt nothing. A glance down at himself had him on the verge of laughing hysterically, for he was wearing a rich purple dress that nearly reached the ground. He felt behind his back and found, to his relief, a hood, so at least Roman wasn’t completely cruel. Sure the tight laces were hell, as were the sleeves that reached down to his legs, but as long as he could smoother himself in fabric, he could calm down. He tried to remember the exercises Logan had taught him: 4-7-8 and counting with all of his senses. Eventually, his breathing slowed and he removed his hood.

The world seemed a little less scary now. He’d noticed birds chirping amongst the treetops, the sun filtered down nicely, and he was sure that whatever reason he had been brought here was important. 

He was sitting on the ground, back pressed up against a tree, though he couldn’t quite remember doing that. He stood up, trying to get a sense of his surroundings. For one, he was in a forest—  _ wow great job, Virgil. Figure that one out all by yourself?—  _ and secondly… Well, he had nothing. Just trees. Looks like he was picking a direction and going with it in the hopes he’d find Roman… somehow.

He hadn’t been walking very long when he spotted a vaguely familiar cottage. It wasn’t big enough to be from Sleeping Beauty, so…  _ Really? Snow White? Was this because I said I liked the Evil Queen’s aesthetic  _ once? He shrugged and pushed inside. That was when he heard someone upstairs, and for a moment he felt relieved to not have to be alone, but that quickly changed when he realized whoever it was was crying. His eyes went wide. 

_ Roman _ .

Virgil dashed up the stairs as fast as his gown would let him, practically throwing open the door, and he nearly cried upon seeing the person he’d been looking for. “Roman!” Virgil called out. Roman looked up from where he was bunched up on the bed. Virgil moved over to the bed to try and hug him, but Roman shrugged him off. “Roman?”

This wasn’t like him. This was  _ bad.  _

“Why won’t you leave me alone?” Roman whimpered quietly, fresh tears running down his face. “I just want to be left alone.”

“Roman, what are you talking about?” Virgil sat next to him, but Roman scooted away and put his face back down to his knees. 

“I get it!” Roman said loudly out of nowhere. “You’re all just the nicest people in the fucking world and you’re just trying to let me down easy. Just leave me  _ alone _ !” The window next to them shattered.

“Roman. Roman, listen to me.” Virgil tried to keep his voice steady. As much as he wanted to hug Roman, he knew that when he was feeling this way he hated being touched, so he kept his distance. “This is all in your head. Trust me, as the  _ literal _ personification of anxiety, I should know. You’re lying to yourself.” 

Roman turned his back to him, facing the headboard that rested against the wall to the left of the window, his breath coming in heavier and more panicked. 

“You don’t  _ know _ that!”

“I do. I swear I do.” Virgil was crying now. Roman was scaring him, and everything in Virgil cried out to ease the insurmountable amount of pain he was in. The wind roared through the broken window, sending pillows and sheets flying. He longed to run and hide until this was all over, but that other, stronger part of him prevailed. He was essentially Thomas’ fight or flight instinct, and he was determined to fight for Roman.

“I… do.” Everything in the room became crystal clear to Virgil in that moment. His eyes settled on a single shiny red apple just past the bedpost, still among the spinning wreckage that threatened to cut his skin to ribbons. Not a thing touched him when he stood, walking a path to the fruit, and when he reached it there was no going back. 

He had to have it. 

As if in a trance, his lithe, pale fingers wrapped around its round form. 

He pressed his mouth against it.

“Virgil?”

Then its sweet juice was filling his mouth. 

***

Roman’s brow furrowed against his knees as he heard Virgil trail off then fall silent. He brought his head up with a soft, “Virgil?” and when there was no response he turned around on the bed out of curiosity, only to freeze in horror at what he saw. He swore all the breath left his lungs. 

It was too late. 

Virgil’s teeth were already sinking into it, and Roman felt helpless as he watched in shock, the bedding and glass crashing down around them. 

The next thing to hit the ground was the apple, a sort of dull thud against the wooden floor, then Virgil came down with it, and with a sickening gasp, Roman lunged. Yet again, it was  _ too late _ . The sound of Virgil’s head hitting the ground echoed throughout the cottage.

“No. No, no, no, no, no.” Roman repeated that single word over and over again, dropping to his knees and scooping Virgil’s limp form up into his lap. 

This was his fault.  _ His fault, his fault, his fault. _ He was supposed to be the hero. But he  _ wasn’t _ a hero. He was a coward, running away, always making the wrong choice and hurting the people he loved, and it wasn’t like Virgil was the first victim of his recklessness. How could they love someone like that?

The truth was… they couldn’t, but he had to try. 

Hurriedly, he kissed Virgil, begging for that true love’s kiss he always believed in to break the curse that he’d unwittingly set in motion through his anger. Nothing happened. He tried again and again, but Virgil didn’t wake up. Didn’t  _ breathe _ . “Virgil! Virgil please wake up!” Roman shook him, but his head only lolled. “Virgil, wake up. Please.  _ Please _ .” Roman dissolved into tears, hugging Virgil close, rocking back and forth. He’d known all along that he wasn’t Virgil’s true love, but finding out by putting Virgil into a curse he couldn’t break was by far the worst way to have done so.

Minutes passed by with Roman desperately clinging to the one he loved. 

In those eternal minutes, Virgil didn’t move, and where Roman had once been able to warm him up, his skin stayed as cold as porcelain. The only thing that kept Roman from giving up entirely was the fact that there was still a steady pulse to be felt in his neck beneath the cold, lifeless guise the curse blanketed him in. He gave him one last squeeze and firmly pressed their foreheads together. 

Roman carefully lifted Virgil onto the bed, only now noticing how breathtaking he would have been in the long, draping fabric and rich purple were he still awake, and he crossed his arms before wiping the tears from his face. He even conjured a bouquet of white poppies to place in Virgil’s clasped hands. The simple conjuring took every ounce of his willpower and energy, and he sobbed his heart out all the while. Then he pressed one final kiss to Virgil’s forehead with a vain hope that this kiss would somehow work. 

“I’ll make this right. I swear.” 

He had to find Janus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact! White poppies symbolize eternal sleep, oblivion, imagination, consolation, dreams, and peace. Yes, I did in fact spend 10 minutes looking up the meanings of various plants.


	5. Thus the Dam Breaks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ends of the stories catch up to Roman. He just needs to find the people Virgil loves, and then he'll wake up, right?

Roman could barely force himself to move. He just wanted to fall to his knees again, but he dragged himself to the bedroom door, shutting it and then opening it again into Remus’ eerie yet beautiful forest. Why couldn’t it have led straight to Janus? Straight to someone whose arms he could fall into; someone who Virgil loved enough to  _ wake up.  _ Then he stepped through, and gave one last look at his peacefully asleep love. “I’ll come back for you. I promise.”

**“** **_OFF WITH HIS HEAD!”_ **

**** Roman startled at the shrill scream for his death, tripping on a rock behind his heel to land flat on the ground as the sound of hoards of people marched closer. His elbows stung, and the breath had been knocked out of him, but he knew he had to get up. 

He had to get up and  _ run _ . 

The darkness in his mind couldn’t be held back any longer, the dam containing it having burst open with the sound of Virgil falling to the floor, and the ends of the stories were coming for him. 

Remus phased into physicality on one of the large branches above him with limbs dangling lazily over the edge. His eyes went wide to see his brother alone again in such a state. Other than the ears and tail, he was human, and for that Roman was at least a little grateful. “Where’s the emo?” he asked, urgency and worry creeping into his voice. He dropped down from the tree branch, ears twitching at the sound of the approaching army before they and the tail both disappeared. Although they had their differences, he could tell Remus hated to see him cry. 

Especially when he knew it meant something bad.

“He’s been cursed, and I can’t... I can’t wake him up, so I need Janus—  _ anyone _ — but I just ended up back here, and—” He tripped on his breath and landed in a fit of sobs. 

“Hey, breathe. Come on.” His brother took his hand tightly. “We’ll fix this.”

The voices and footsteps were terrifyingly close now, but Roman could barely see five feet in front of him, which made it all the worse as he jolted his head around to try and spot what was after him. However, he didn’t have time for that, and with a deep breath he forced himself to let the hand in his ground him. He looked back to Remus and nodded firmly. “Let’s go.”

“Alright, we need to destroy this world. You have too much control, so I can’t do it without your help,” Remus said, eyes locked with his. 

“Okay.” Remus was right: getting rid of this world would make the others easier to control, and the way back to Virgil would be clearer. Besides, he couldn’t be sure the worlds wouldn’t bleed over and cause an even bigger problem. 

They shut their eyes tight. 

The cracking twigs and shouts were suddenly replaced with roaring water, and ocean spray dotted his skin. Roman’s eyes flew open. The ocean only meant one thing, and that was that Logan was in trouble. __

All around him swirled a massive wall of water— like an invisible tube had been shoved into the ocean with them inside— that was too high to see out of, (other than the occasional massive black tentacle), and beneath his feet was stone. If Logan was in the water, there was no getting to him, but the moment he turned around, he wanted to cry with relief. Logan lay on his stomach, struggling to push himself up. He was okay.

If the circumstances had been different he could have stared for hours at Logan’s gorgeous midnight blue tail. Tiny silver scales were strewn across its length, mimicking the stars Logan so loved. He looked… other-worldly, beautiful, astonishing, and for someone who was supposed to be creative, he was having trouble forming words, what with Logan’s array of muscles on full display. His...  _ Logan _ always insisted on exercising, and Roman wasn’t exactly complaining. His face reddened as he suddenly realized how long he was spending staring at Logan’s bare chest. Not a good time to gawk at someone that he couldn’t ever be with.

A small smile spread over Logan’s face. It broke Roman’s heart to see him look at him like that-- like Logan was grateful he was here-- for he was reminded of the fact that he never should have left him in the first place.

Beside him Remus groaned loudly. “Cut the Hallmark movie bullshit, we have work to do.” His brother marched past him, waving his hand over Logan’s tail in favor of flesh. Of course, he didn’t think to give Logan clothes as he did so.

And Roman had  _ just _ gotten rid of his previous blush. 

A wrench was quickly thrown into his train of thought when the next time he blinked they stood on the deck of a rickety ship that was falling apart in multiple places and looked like it had been at the bottom of the ocean for at least a decade. “Holy  _ fuck _ she’s ugly,” Remus remarked from beside him. 

Towering above the ship they stood on was an at least one hundred foot tall, purple sea witch whose skin moved with the same consistency as an actual octopus, the black tentacles on her lower half that he’d been able to see from the pit sending massive waves shooting up around her. Her hair was shock white behind her golden crown of the sea, (Remus subconsciously moved to touch the streak in his hair), and she waved a trident around. Everything in her path faced destruction. Out of the corner of his eye, Logan unsteadily brushed himself off, shirt and tie luckily, (or perhaps unluckily), back in their rightful place. Roman felt like he was forgetting something as he stared at Logan. Oh yeah, maybe it was  _ the hundred-foot tall sea witch about to _ kill  _ them!  _

Well, what the hell: it could wait, for as long as there was an entire whirlpool between them and her, he had time to indulge himself.

Roman crashed into Logan, holding him tight to his chest. “God I’m so,  _ so _ sorry.” Roman couldn’t feel or taste his tears among the spray of the churning waters but he knew they were there. “I—” Logan put his finger to Roman’s lips, looking up at him. He still couldn’t speak, Roman realized, though he didn’t know why something couldn’t just be easy for them for once. It was painfully obvious that everything Logan couldn’t say he was trying to communicate with his expression, something usually difficult for him. 

“You know. I kind of feel like that sea witch is stealing my style,” Remus said with a pout, shifting the lower half of his body into a set of eight green tentacles that were far more slimy-looking than they had the right to be. For a moment there was silence as Remus just glared at her with his arms crossed and Roman refused to let go of Logan, then Remus groaned and threw his arms up in the air. “Well, aren’t you going to destroy her?”

“I can’t,” Roman mumbled. Logan looked up at him in surprise. His stomach twisted.

“What do you mean you can’t? There’s no getting out of here with all of this chaos, so you have to!”

“ _ I mean I can’t! _ I’m losing control! I can barely conjure a bouquet of fucking flowers,” he cried, letting go of Logan to turn away and hug himself tightly, and the guilt swallowed him whole once more. Logan watched him worriedly. He was probably trying to understand why he would need to conjure flowers, and Roman only hated himself even more because of it.

Remus sighed, but Roman refused to look at him because he didn’t want to see that expression of disappointment and pity he probably had. “Well, I hope you guys like octopus because there’s only one way this movie ends,” he announced, restoring his legs to jog over to the wheel of the ship.

Roman’s eyes followed him with interest, and he could now see that the sails were tattered, what little cargo remained on board sliding around as they were tossed amongst the unforgiving waves. He knew exactly what Remus planned to do, and it involved one sharp, broken prow of their un-wrecked ship driving straight through their assailant. He gripped Logan’s hand tightly.

And then the spinning water was guiding them straight to her, Logan and Roman watching and bracing themselves.

Ursula was busy with a booming monologue that wasn’t in the movie, everything in this world thrown out of order. “Every  _ mollusk _ will know my name!” she shrieked, waving her trident through the air. Lightning struck the tops of the towering waves.

“ _ NOW! _ ” Roman screamed with all his might to be heard among the storm and the heaving sea. Remus turned the wheel sharply, striking the blow to end it all.

“So much for—” Ursula cut herself off with a blood curdling shriek as the splintered prow of the ship pierced her stomach that had them all slamming their hands over their ears in pain, and in the midst of her panic, her own lighting descended upon her. 

Then there was silence, and she slipped beneath the waves, somehow leaving their ship untouched while the water calmed and the sky cleared to make way for perfect summer-day weather. Roman watched in shock as the last tentacle disappeared from view.

“Roman?” came Logan’s hoarse voice from beside him. His voice was back! Ursula was gone, and he had Logan back! Roman turned and pulled Logan into a tight hug without a second thought. They stood there, intertwined, each enjoying the feeling of holding the other, both completely drenched and shivering from the sea breeze.

“I thought I lost you.” Roman’s voice trembled. If he hadn’t already cried so much today he would be in tears. Caught up in the emotion of the moment, it took him awhile to realize he was still hugging Logan, and he quickly pulled back, if only a little. Letting him go entirely would make everything too real. 

Logan’s large, gentle hand tipped his chin up. Once Roman realized what was happening, he stumbled back. “I-I’m sorry.” Logan looked at Roman strangely as he looked away. It was obvious he could tell that there was something Roman wasn’t telling him.

“Where are Patton, Virgil, and Janus?” Logan asked, barely managing to keep his voice steady. It sounded like it had been coated with sand, and it looked like it was painful for Logan to speak, but Roman knew he wasn’t going to let that get in the way.

“We’re going to find Janus and Patton.” He looked everywhere except Logan, fidgeting restlessly with his soaked clothing. 

“And Virgil?”

“I already found him,” Roman choked out. Tears somehow found their way out of his eyes again, tiny pinpricks of water that could be mistaken for his hair dripping if they weren’t being seen by the side with the greatest attention to detail. 

“Roman, what happened?” Logan asked, his voice deathly quiet. “Where’s Virgil?”

Roman wanted to throw up, to run and hide and never have to tell someone he loved what he’d caused or even have to say it out loud ever again. “He was in Snow White,” he began shakily, and he could already see the dread making Logan’s face drop. “He tried to calm me down, and all of a sudden there was this apple, and he ate it, and he fell asleep, and— and—” Roman couldn’t continue, swaying where he stood. Logan might have been able to put out a hand to steady him if Roman hadn’t just hit him with news that nearly made him fall himself.

“Why didn’t you just kiss him and wake him up?” His voice was a broken whisper, a host of denial, confused and  _ betrayed _ .

“He did,” came Remus’ solemn voice from over Logan’s shoulder. For once he looked sober, serious. It was scarier than the wildest of Remus’ nightmares, (and he’d described quite a few in horrid detail to the others.)

“That—” Logan found it difficult to find the words, and it felt like the first time Roman had witnessed such a thing. “That doesn’t make sense.” 

Roman found his voice again. If there was anything he could do well, it was act, or at least he  _ thought _ so... Logan had been pretty skeptical of his acting abilities, and the phrase ‘can’t act to save her life’ still stung, even if it was just for a video. He shook himself mentally. He stood a little straighter, as straight as he could, and looked Logan in the eyes. “Once we find Janus and Patton, I’ll take you back to him and you—” he nearly choked on his words, “you can wake him up.” The smile he gave him felt more wrong than anything he’d ever had to do.

Logan’s brow creased with distress and confusion, and… tears slipped down his cheeks. Logan never cried. “Roman, you…”

He turned away, squeezing his eyes shut tight, and he somehow found it in himself to be able to erase this world on his own. The sound of waves faded, the ground growing still. And when he opened his eyes again, the sky was dark and a dirt path leading straight to a wall of black, mangled thorns laid beneath his boots. 

The wide eyes of a familiar face dressed in black and yellow snapped up to look at him.

  
  



	6. Just in Time and Incredibly Too Late

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Janus is reunited with the group, and no one can bring themself to tell him what happened to Virgil. Now the four of them must work together to hold off a dragon and rescue Patton.

Janus’ face melted with an intense relief that, after everything that had happened, was so completely foreign to Roman.  _ How long had he been here? _ “Roman, Logan, you’re okay,” Janus said, his perfect posture unraveling before rushing over to them. He hugged them tightly, then held them back to check for injuries. Roman was stiff. After all, how could he stand there and take Janus’ affection knowing what he’d done to Virgil? To  _ all _ of them?

“Nice to see you too, Janus. I’m also okay,” Remus snarked, rolling his eyes where he stood off to the side. 

Janus reached over and pulled him into a hug. “I never doubted that for a second.” Then he let go of Remus, stepping back to glance at Roman, his face suddenly serious. “Please tell me no one is in there,” he begged, gesturing towards the massive castle that was barely visible through the wall of thorns that surrounded it. Each and every one was the size of a tree, sprouting in different sized clusters from the dirt. The ones closest to the palace tangled together too thickly to pass through, while the ones around them had more space between to maneuver through. 

Roman winced. 

That was enough of an answer for Janus. “Virgil?” Roman shook his head. “Where  _ is _ he then?”

That was when Roman’s body betrayed him by shaking.  _ They didn’t love him, he was a screw up, he’d now put two people they loved under a curse— _ He was opening his mouth to tell Janus when Logan stepped in, and he forced down a dry sob of relief. “As soon as we rescue Patton we can find him. First, we need a plan.” Lying to the keeper of lies was a dangerous game, the only one brave and clever enough to risk it and have it pass undetected being Logan.

Janus nodded. Roman didn’t miss the glance he shot him, but mercifully Janus didn’t question Logan’s explanation, and when Roman tried to catch Logan’s attention for a silent ‘thank you,’ Logan never returned his gaze. “Roman, Remus. Do you think you could get us through the thorns?” Janus asked.

Remus cocked his head to the side, slightly further than was possible for the average human. “Yeah, probably.” Roman nodded his agreement, terrified that if he spoke, he would break down crying. 

They took up their individual stances and pushed their hands toward the thorns in unison. Roman’s movements were tired and broken, sluggish, whereas Remus’ were controlled and smooth. A section of the thorns melted away, and a small tunnel just wide enough for them to walk in a single file line was drilled out. “The world is getting easier to manipulate, RoRo.” Remus always was an optimist. 

“Yeah,” Roman replied.  _ Up to one word answers. Incredible. They’ll never suspect a thing! _

Without another thought to it, Janus stepped forward and into the tunnel, desperate to reach Patton and wake him. As he did so a deafening roar came from the castle. A giant black dragon with yellow eyes and an ashy purple underbelly, (nothing compared to the rich violet Virgil loved to wear), flew up from one of the turrets and began circling the otherwise dead silent castle grounds. Roman hated how accurate his depictions could sometimes be, for she looked exactly as she had in the movie, yet far more real and alive than anything should be allowed to.

“Fuck,” Remus said eloquently.

“For once I’m inclined to agree with you.” Logan took off his glasses, quickly wiped them off on his shirt, and replaced them as if he wanted to be sure he was really seeing clearly. 

“New plan!  _ New plan _ ,” Janus said frantically. “Remus and Roman: fight the dragon. Logan and I will get to Patton.”

“Would it not be simpler to take Roman?” Logan asked. “He created the castle, he can take you—”

“Guys?” Roman interrupted, eyes drawn upwards to a source of hope. Of course Patton was still awake… Everything was out of order, and the creator of this world was desperately clinging to any sort of silver lining. 

“Not now, Roman. As I was saying—”

“Guys!” Roman said louder.

“Not now, Roman!” Logan and Janus said in unison.

“Just listen to me!” Roman yelled. Years of scorching frustration bubbled up from his stomach and spewed from his lips, making his throat more sore than it already was. “You never  _ listen _ to me! You want to know why I left?! Why I wanted to stay in here?” He jammed his fingers into his hair, which pulled at their roots, releasing some of his stress through the pain. “Because no one cares what  _ I _ have to say when I’m with you! But when I’m a prince? A  _ real _ prince? Everyone stops to listen. And no one cares what I’ve done wrong.” His whole body quivered, but he didn’t cry. Roman didn’t think he’d ever cry again after all the tears he’d shed today. He just felt tired. Empty. Like each time he’d been made the butt of the joke or was talked over he’d lost some small part of himself. He didn’t have anything left to give.

He wasn’t crying, but Logan and Janus were. Remus was close, although he pretended to be disinterested. “God, Roman, I— I had no idea.” Janus tried to pull him into a hug, but Roman just stood there, unmoving. Then Logan joined in, which was strange. Typically he wasn’t one for hugs, though he was incredible at them, figuratively melting into every embrace where usually he stood stiff as a board. Finally, Remus completed the group hug, squeezing all of them together until they couldn’t breathe. 

It felt… nice. He let himself close his eyes, and he pretended that they were the missing pieces of himself he was always trying to find, allowing the warmth and pressure to wash away his cold aching if only for that brief blip in time. The familiarity of his brother, the beating of Janus’ heart and smoothness of his scales, and Logan’s cologne: he drowned in them all. 

And then he opened his eyes. “I will make everything right,” he promised, feeling sickeningly vulnerable again, “I’ll fix all of this.”   
Janus wiped tears from the human side of his face as they separated. Logan did the same to both sides of his own face, wiping his glasses again. “What were you going to say?” Janus asked hoarsely.

Roman’s eyes widened. “Right! There’s a green orb.” He pointed towards the castle. The edges of a faint lime-colored light could be seen slowly fading from the view of a high-up window on the west wing, and it could barely be made out from this distance, but there was a glimpse of what could have been a silhouette. Logan and Janus stared at him blankly, while Remus nodded. Roman sighed. “Which means Patton might not be asleep yet. We have to get to him before he touches the spindle.”

Logan’s face dawned in understanding, and Janus’ did the same, yet his expression was absent of the knowledge of what happened to Virgil. “If we don’t make it, we can always just wake him, right?” Janus asked. Remus and Logan glanced at Roman, who swallowed. 

“Yeah,” he forced out. 

They all nodded. “Alright. Roman, come with me,” Janus said. “Logan and Remus, try to find a way to distract the dragon long enough for us to get to Patton. We don’t have much time.” Roman was grateful that even as the gravity of the situation hit, they didn’t really have time to address his partial confession. 

“I need the Sword of Truth,” Logan told Roman, gripping his wrist softly, eyes locked on his in an intimate sort of urgency.

“A sword? Do you even know how to use one?” Roman replied, raising an eyebrow.

Logan shot him a look that made him snap his mouth shut. “Of course. Thomas learned sword fighting choreography from the same show he received his katana from. I have that skill, as it is one of my primary functions to retain skills Thomas learns even if  _ he _ forgets them.”

Roman stepped back and conjured said enchanted double-edged longsword and scabbard, surprised with himself for being able to do so— but then again, an ounce of hope, love, and imperativeness worked wonders for the desperate— and offered it hilt-first to Logan. “I stand corrected. Use it well.” Logan accepted it graciously. 

Roman turned to follow Janus across the bridge, but Logan caught his hand before he was out of reach. “I swear that I will do my absolute best to listen to you from now on.” Roman nodded. “And Roman?” He looked Logan in his deep blue eyes. “You are  _ not _ undeserving of love.” He placed a soft kiss on Roman’s forehead and a slightly longer one on his lips, and Roman let him because he knew he needed it, wanting to take it all in: the feeling of being noticed, of being loved, and of Logan with his all-encompassing softness and warmth. They lingered there for a moment before the screech of the dragon brought them back to the present. “Fracture a femur.” Roman and Logan shared a grin before Roman turned to run after Janus.

***

Remus conjured his morning star, swinging it from side to side to establish a rhythm, and Logan, who stood to his right, tested the balance of this unfamiliar sword. It was perfect, as he had expected. Whether that was a property of the sword itself or Roman’s influence, he had no idea. He simply knew that his Roman put exquisite detail and care into everything he created. Logan admired that trait in him.

“Hey! Asshole!” Remus yelled at the dragon, amplifying his voice to reach the massive beast. Maleficent answered him with a piercing screech of her own. Then her leathery wings beat heavier as she picked up speed and dove directly at the bridge they stood before.

Logan sighed, and he would have put his palm to his forehead if he wasn’t holding a sword. “No need to plan how to fight a dragon,” Logan said, mostly to himself as he began to panic, “Let’s just wing it.” His eyes flickered to a grinning Remus, his mustache twisted up and crammed against his nose, who then winked at Logan in a way that made him nervous until he processed what he’d just said and paled. "Don't tell Patton," he pleaded. He’d never hear the end of it.

That is, if everything turned out okay.

"Sure," Remus replied unconvincingly, "No problem."

Another roar stopped Logan from making a witty response, and his head whipped forward again just as the dragon touched down, making the ground tremble beneath her thick, curled talons. He readied his sword, reminding himself that he would prefer Remus be able to tell Patton that he'd made a pun than Roman and Janus be too late because a dragon attacked them,  _ or _ for one or both of them to not make it out of this fight. Though, with Remus and his abilities here, he was almost certain he would be okay. Everything was going to be okay.

"You go right, I'll go left," Logan said evenly despite how the overwhelming rush of adrenaline was making his entire body violently tremble. Remus nodded, gripping his mace with one hand and a throwing star in the other. 

Then they split apart, using the thorns as cover just as the dragon bore down on them. 

Scorching green flames erupted where they had just been. The moment they dissipated, Remus rolled back into the path, popping onto his feet to hurl a throwing star at the scaled throat of the Mistress of All Evil, which lodged itself between two purple scales but effectively did nothing except annoy her. With the distraction, Logan began running in the opposite direction in the hopes of using the rough terrain to his advantage with Remus close behind. Just as he’d hoped, the dragon followed. 

Logan calculated what her weakest point might be. Her nose was long and slender, so he’d have to find the more narrow spaces between the clusters of thorns if he needed a moment of rest. She also had tall spikes down her neck and back that were functionally useless and could easily get caught on things, but the ones on the tip of her tail needed to be looked out for, as one swipe could easily take him out completely. Game over. Another thing to look out for were the twisted horns atop her head and her talons, not to mention the fire that could easily bypass his thorn method—  _ didn’t Prince Phillip have a shield to fix that problem? _ Logan was utterly screwed, wasn’t he? Why couldn’t they have just noticed Roman’s pain earlier and avoided all of this?

“She’s catching up!” Remus warned. They were far enough anyways, so Logan came to a stop and faced their assailant.

“I need a shield!” Logan yelled.

Remus’ arm shot out, and on Logan’s right arm appeared a large blue heater shield. He hadn’t been expecting the sheer weight of it, so his arm dropped, and the dragon used his disadvantage to strike with her fiery breath, but he quickly threw the shield up and ducked behind it to protect the majority of the body. He could feel the waves of heat surround and lick at his skin even from behind his defenses. They were quite literally playing with fire.

Then everything began moving far too fast for him to keep track of.

Flashes of black streaked across his periphery, forcing him to have to dodge and weave, for there was no way his shield could stop a blow from something that big. He just had to use the land to his advantage and hope that it would trip up the reptile. Logan locked eyes with Remus for a split second where he stood near the front left leg of the dragon, just out of her line of sight, and he nodded at him. Remus seemed to understand.

Logan charged straight at Maleficent, swiping at her ankle with his sword to anger her enough to get her to follow him again, diving back into the cover of the thorns. He followed a small trail down and to the right until he was sure he was properly hidden. Another rattling screech— he was sure he’d have to get his hearing checked after this— and she was tearing through the deadly tangles of plants to search for him. Meanwhile, Remus took Logan’s cue. 

He kept his breathing as even as possible, thoughts with Virgil as he tried to be quiet.  _ In for four, hold for seven, out for eight… _ Logan could hear his low, soothing voice floating around in his head, and that soft expression on his pale face could have been right there in front of him. Logan forgot where he was for a moment and lived in the ache of that memory. To his left, black scales and sharp horns above glowing yellow eyes emerged to shake him back into reality, but did not see him despite him being mere inches away. 

Nobody could have prepared him for the absolute reek of the dragon. Her scales gave off waves of a putrid, earthy, metallic smell, the hot breath blowing from her nostrils smelling of rot and decay. Its humidity lingered on his skin and made it crawl. Logan wanted to panic, wanted to run, wanted to tear off his skin, but he stayed still. 

Absolutely still.

Waiting for Remus.

Waiting for the moment that wouldn’t end in his death.

A deafening screech nearly brought him to his knees, her head twisting towards her tail and getting caught up in the clutches of the thorns. She squirmed and writhed and kicked, and Logan had to dive out of her way as bundles of thorns crashed towards him. And then she broke free. Not without a few oozing cuts, however, but their fight was still far from over. 

Her wings unfurled, beating at the air and raining droplets of scorching blood down upon them, trying to get the higher ground to escape the tangles and Remus’ constant attacks with various weapons ranging from a garrote to an axe that he’d begun inflicting while the beast was distracted. Logan simply breathed. He knew Maleficent wouldn’t fall for the same trick twice, so his next course of action would be to wear her out. There was no way such a giant thing could keep up with two nimble humans, not when she was using her entire body to keep in the air. 

He left the cover of the thicket. 

That’s when the flames rained down. 

They just had to keep dodging when necessary, using their shields, (Remus just kind of held his arm up and an invisible force field appeared), and trying their best to conserve energy. It was easier said than done. Though Logan was probably the second most active of all the others, this much nonstop cardio was difficult for even the fittest, and his lungs felt like there were spikes within them trying to drill their way out. 

Remus thankfully caught on to what he was doing, and helped by continuing his assault of various objects at the increasingly angry dragon. As each object made contact, Maleficent let out another furious roar. Logan risked a longer look up and saw that due to Remus’ efforts, Maleficent was now sporting numerous open wounds, as well as an impressive array of swords, spears, arrows, and a boomerang of all things. Nothing seemed to be slowing her down.

As Logan ran, he racked his brain for any knowledge of Sleeping Beauty. How did it end? How did the prince defeat the dragon? He’d done it  _ somehow _ . Logan should’ve easily known the answer, but that was more Roman’s area than his, and he was a little rusty, not to mention distracted. Then in his running, Logan reached a wall of stone leading up to a cliff at the edge of the forest of thorns and an idea formed. “Remus!” he yelled at the top of his lungs. 

“Yeah?” came a shout from behind him. Logan didn’t look back; he had to get up to that cliff as soon as possible.

“Boost me up and get her to come to me!” Remus didn’t answer, but Logan knew he’d gotten the message when easier hand-holds shot out of the stone and Maleficent screamed in beastly outrage. 

She was just on his heels. 

It wasn’t too far of a climb: he just had to hoist himself up as best he could with the sword and shield weighing on him and use the momentum to get up the rest of the wall, but it was going to be difficult. In hindsight, he should have asked for a lighter shield. At least he could sheath the sword and use both hands.

_ One, two… three!  _

He scrambled up as fast as he could, and before he knew it, he was atop the cliff getting onto his feet again. He hadn’t thought he had it in him… 

He whipped around to see the beast coming straight towards him, every muscle in his body stretched thin and shaking from fatigue. His breathing came in shallow pants. Sweat dripped down his brow, the sword’s grip slippery as he drew it again, and when the wind suddenly whipped up with dark clouds forming at an unnatural rate, the substance cooled his body. Purple lightning— that was odd… wasn’t Maleficent’s magic green?— split a massive tree of thorns down the middle just below, jolting Logan out of his frozen state and giving him the incentive to want to get off the cliff as quickly as possible. 

Rather than land, Maleficent soared upwards and began circling. Smart. If she had tried to land instantly, she wouldn’t have been able to stop her trajectory, and it would’ve sent them both over the cliff’s edge.

Rain began dotting his glasses. He sighed, tossing them down, knowing they’d only be a hindrance to his sight, and by association, his ability to fight. He didn’t  _ need _ them to see, but they were a part of his general aesthetic and he was sad to see them go despite the fact that he could just conjure another pair. 

He scrambled backwards to the cliff’s edge as the dragon began the process of landing, and the beating of her wings would have blown Logan off the edge if the wind hadn’t been just as strong from behind him. His arms trembled as he lifted his sword and shield, and he lowered himself into a fighting stance. 

***

Roman focused on the sound of his heart beating in his chest while he ran. It kept him from falling, kept him from getting discouraged, and the rapid rhythm fought off any sleep that every other inch of his body begged for. The rest of his focus was dedicated to reaching Patton before the curse befell him, so that he wouldn't have to find out Patton didn't love him either. Yet… even now he didn't think they would make it, understanding that soon Janus would have proof of just how unloved Roman truly was. They were lucky enough that Patton was awake now despite the rest of the world being past that point in the movie. Why should they be granted any more mercies than that? It’s not as though he deserved a miracle right now.

Every stone wall and wooden support beam they passed looked the same, and as they came to a crossroad, so did the archways where the hall split into four. Janus froze, panicking. “Which one is it?!” he asked frantically. Roman closed his eyes.

_ Darkness, instinct, a blue light in an expanse of black... _

His eyes flew open. “There!” He pointed to the second one to the right, and that was the direction they dashed in. 

Then it was on to more stairs, and Roman’s lungs were screaming, his legs aching as if his muscles had been run through a meat grinder. Even with the running, Patton still had much larger of a head start and both he and Janus had to keep stopping for breath. How would they possibly prevail? 

He dimly heard the dragon’s distant screech, but he had no energy left to devote to hoping Logan and Remus would be able to defeat her. His thoughts and breathing grew louder and louder until they drowned out the strange echoing of their footfalls ricocheting off the damp stone walls of the castle. 

Then the blurring world stilled until he couldn’t even hear his own breath— his own  _ heartbeat,  _ even though both threatened to become as loud as the whistle and wheels on an old train. Roman caught his breath next to Janus, though it was hard because the sight before him threatened to take it from him again. They’d reached the top of the stairs, and Patton hadn’t been on any of them. 

Patton hadn’t been on any of them because he was on the floor. 

“No,” he whispered. There was a thick fog swarming his chest. Patton lay with his blue dress sprawled on the floor, the sleeves and skirt pooling around him, and if the dress had been red, the scene would bear a striking resemblance to death. A golden crown that once rested on his head now lay discarded on the floor above it and a flat necklace resting on Patton’s collarbone to match. 

But the worst part? 

Nearly any portion of skin that showed on his love had at least one scrape or scratch from the woods, two distinct tear tracks carving a path down his resting face. Even in a death-like sleep, he looked deeply sad. This was all Roman’s fault… He ran away, he created this world, and when Patton came to get him back, he left him in the forest to wander around lost and afraid. Patton  _ hated _ being alone even more than he himself did, so how on earth could Roman have done that to him?

In the midst of Roman’s spiral of horror and self-hatred, Janus had quickly knelt on the ground. There wasn’t much space in this little room with its dome-shaped roof, most of it being occupied by Patton, the spinning wheel having disappeared when its purpose had been fulfilled. Roman watched almost numbly as Janus scooped up Patton into his lap with a calm demeanor. He fixed their love’s curls and the way he was positioned, and said, “It’s okay. We’ll just wake him. You’re the prince, right?” It was hard to tell with the broken air about him and the sweatpants. 

He had to stall. Logan and Remus were almost done, right? And Logan would protect him from his mistakes like he always did, wouldn’t he? “Let’s get him to Aurora’s room. I think it’s best if we wait until everything stabilizes in case something goes wrong.” Janus looked up at him warily, probably hearing the half-truths and wavering in his voice, and all Roman could do was look away. 

Janus sighed tiredly. “Yeah. Just give me a moment,” he said. Roman walked around Patton’s feet, coming to sit across from Janus with Patton sleeping between them. He picked up the tiara and ran his fingers along the sharp edges and points, the gold feeling cold and entirely too real beneath his touch. 

Thinking about it, he didn’t think he could take another step further today, so he closed his eyes with a heavy sigh and concentrated. What happened next was a rumbling, scraping sound and the feeling of falling until he’d successfully reshaped the world around them. Then he opened his eyes. A pounding headache was the first to greet him, the view of the room shortly following when he turned his head over his shoulder.

A blue bed standing at only about two feet tall on a short stone platform was pushed against the wall to their left near the back corner. It was perfectly long enough for Patton’s average height, fairly narrow, and most of it was made up of the skirt concealing what was beneath the thin mattress with the golden edges. There was a pillow to match, and the one thick blanket draping halfway off of it had large, golden wheat-looking designs and was the darkest of the four blues that made up the top of the mattress, its side, and the curtain beneath it. The edges of the blanket were the same gold rope-like material as those of the bed. Surrounding the head of the place where Patton was to slumber were lavender curtains. Their golden swirl designs reminded Roman of the wild thorns they’d had to fight through, another matching curtain pulled to the side from where it would usually block the wide balcony opening which had a line of pillars down its center leading outside. The space between that lone curtain and the set reaching halfway along the sides of the bed left a small gap where the wall that was made up of large stone bricks could be seen. Tying it all together was the tile beneath them laid in a gray and white checkered pattern.

Roman looked up from the floor to finally meet Janus’ disoriented eyes with a gentle, “I’ll take him.” He set aside the crown. 

Janus shook his head to rid himself of whatever dizziness or confusion he was feeling from their sudden move, and after a long gaze down at their sleeping beauty, he reluctantly released his tight grip on him to give him over to Roman without a word or a glance. Then Roman stood and bent to take Patton in his arms in a bridal-style carry with what miniscule strength he had left. Patton seemed so small and frail with how the dress swallowed him and spilled out of Roman’s arms, and he had to swallow the wave of guilt that washed over him before he turned to the bed. 

Janus quickly rushed to follow with the forgotten crown in one hand so that he could move the blanket out of the way for Roman to lay him down. Once he’d tugged the rough, heavy thing away, Roman lowered Patton down just as he had Virgil. He gently cupped a hand to the back of his head when he was done so that he could adjust it on the large pillow, and Janus pulled the blanket over his feet to where the rest spilled both tragically and beautifully to the floor. Then Janus was fixing the crown atop his head from the other side of the bed and Roman was summoning a rose. He was sick of flowers, sick of the color red, and he was most certainly sick of fairytales.

Or maybe he was sick of the reality that had seeped into them.

Roman half-heartedly tried to distract himself by counting the different shades of blue now including Patton’s dress. There were seven with the main portion of the gown being the darkest of all of them while the V-shaped middle section and sleeves were closest to the skirt of the bed and the sharp points that came off of the top of the sleeves that exposed his freckled shoulders were similar to the top of the mattress and pillow. Next to Patton, Roman felt small, hunching further into the red hoodie he hadn’t left since Virgil. He was sure that he’d be sobbing right now if he was physically capable of such a thing anymore, but no tears came. 

He reached out to cup Patton’s cheek the way his love always did to him, tracing his thumb softly along one of the scratches that were so out of place on his gentle skin, though his thoughts were with Virgil as well when he spoke. “Oh love,” he murmured, “What have I done to you?” How he wished for there to be an answer. 

He wanted Virgil, small in his arms while taking up such a large space in his heart. He wanted to feel needed by him, if only for heat, and he wanted to hear him bicker about Roman stealing his clothes. And Patton… He could really use a signature Patton hug. One that smelled and felt like nostalgia and love, that was somehow exactly as warm and tight as he imagined the perfect embrace to be, and—

“Roman?” Janus’ broken and dreading tone had Roman suddenly terrified, and when he looked up he was met with wide eyes rapidly beginning to sparkle with unshed tears. “What—” His voice cracked, so he tried again. “What happened to Virgil?” 

That’s when Roman saw.

He must’ve subconsciously summoned it for comfort in the midst of his thoughts— he hadn’t meant to, he just…

He was wearing Virgil’s patched-with-love hoodie where his red one had been only moments ago.

Janus looked upon the ground with dawning mortification, running a panicked hand through his hair before replacing his hat again. “That’s why I kept sensing lies…” he realized, gaze shooting back up to Roman. “Where is he, Roman? What did you do?!”

_ What did _ **_you_ ** _ do? _

_ You, you, you. This is  _ **_your_ ** _ fault. _

His heart began racing, and there was no Logan around to get him out of this now, so he was going to have to tell him and watch the look on Janus’ face that said he couldn’t even pretend to forgive him this time. “I just wanted to be left alone,” he defended shakily before he’d even explained.

Janus’ reaction was dripping in denial. “No,” he whispered. The tears in his eyes fell like angels from the sky.

“The apple came out of nowhere… His head just hit the floor and I couldn’t do anything, and when I kissed him it didn’t work… I  _ know _ he doesn’t love me, bu-ut I was so  _ scared  _ because he wasn’t breathing and I just— I don’t know what to do anymore. I need him to wake up. I need  _ Patton _ to wake up, but I can’t— I can’t do it,” he babbled. When had the air become so scarce?

Janus just kept _ looking _ at him like that, not with hatred, but with utter fear and worry for what this could possibly mean for them all. Roman couldn’t bear that look. “Please say something,” he begged in a hushed tone, “Yell at me, I don’t care, but say  _ something.” _

“I need to think!” Janus snapped with a harsh hiss and balled fists, and Roman flinched, but aside from the regret that flashed across Janus’ panicked face, he said nothing before bolting outside to the balcony overlooking the vast expanse of fields and forest for as far as the eye could see. Roman didn’t blame him.

Alone again, he fell to the floor, holding Patton’s hand as tightly as he could and pressing it to his forehead while his stomach lurched in agony.

***

Logan measured the length of Maleficent’s strides as she raced towards him, half flying half running, and just as she reached him, he slashed upwards with his sword and dove forward into a roll. His ears rang with the roar that followed the deep gash in Maleficent’s neck. Crimson blood dripped down her violet stomach, and a flash of a memory crossed his mind at the worst of times. 

_ Virgil, curled softly into Roman on the couch after another sleepless night. It was because Roman was off in the Imagination this time, but he didn’t tell their prince that, simply accepting Roman’s offer of a nap— he’d noticed the eye bags and yawning upon his return— a bit more eagerly than usual. Virgil’s fingers gently clutching the silk sash. Red and purple. _

He landed well, (only emotionally jarred), taking a knee and bowing his head. In the process, he barely avoided a slash of Maleficent’s tail when she turned around to face him. He stood quickly, holding his shield up just in time to meet a blast of fire, dashing forward as he did so. As soon as the fire dissipated he thrust his shield forward. Logan heard a satisfying bang and a screech of pain as the metal connected with Maleficent’s still outstretched head. 

Logan drove his sword down the length of her stomach. 

Maleficent staggered backwards, (stepping on and crushing his glasses much to his disdain), dangerously close to the edge of the cliff. Logan threw himself to the side as she blew another stream of fire haphazardly out of desperation, and he landed badly, arm folding under him at an odd angle. Logan winced when he had to move once more. He hauled himself upwards, leaving the shield behind him, as he couldn’t carry it any longer. This had to be the killing blow or he—  _ What would happen to him? Would he die?  _ Was _ this real? The pain in his arm felt real. If he died what would happen to Thomas? What would happen to him? _ He didn’t have time to think on it for long; he had to take advantage of Maleficent’s momentary weakness. 

She was reeling. Now was his time to strike. 

Logan dashed forward, relying on newfound adrenaline to give him a burst of speed as he drove his sword directly into Maleficent’s heart. Maleficent gave one final screech as she stumbled backwards, falling off the cliff, wrenching the sword out of Logan’s hand. He walked to the edge, making his way as carefully as possible, and everything else but the possibility of his success was forgotten. All that was left was an inky outline of her corpse where her black soul stained the earth, and a sword stuck in the stone below. He heard Remus come up behind him, panting, and when he glanced back at him, his mace was gone. 

He was too tired to celebrate the incredible feat he’d just accomplished, but he still smiled, a rush of excitement flooding his chest and making him want to jump and squeal if not for his lack of energy. He’d done it. He’d actually killed a dragon without anyone dying! Surprisingly it was Remus who brought him back down to earth with a reasonable question, and not the other way around.

“What now?” Remus asked. No crude joke for once, Logan noticed.  _ Is it too much to hope this will continue? Probably. _

A small orb of golden light darting about their heads answered his question. It hovered for a moment, then slowly began floating towards the castle, leading the way, and Logan had a feeling that it was Roman showing them where to go after hearing the silence her death left behind. “We follow Roman, and hope that he and Janus managed to get to Patton before—” He couldn’t bring himself to finish his sentence as he struggled to keep from thinking about what would happen if they failed to get to Patton before he fell asleep. 

Remus conjured a sling for Logan as they walked, the two of them stumbling their way through the uneven land that the now-vanished thorns left, (they’d died with Maleficent, as did anything her magic created). Luckily it smoothed out when they reached the castle, but Logan was still exhausted beyond belief and the thought of stairs made him sick. 

They didn’t speak the entire walk. Logan had never been much for idle conversation, and the gravity of the situation bore heavily on both of them. For Remus— despite all the times the twins fought— his brother’s heart was at stake, and so was the life of one of his first true friends. (Logan found it in him to smile, thinking about how Patton always latched on to new people and made them his friend no matter who they were.) He knew Remus couldn’t stand either of them being hurt by anything out of his control. Then for Logan… if he really thought about it… his entire relationship was on the line, as well as the lives of two of his partners while things were so uncertain. 

Slowly but surely they followed the golden glow through the dim castle, around twists and turns, beyond crossroads, and up stairs. 

The light stopped at a grand set of doors, and when Logan pushed them open, his eyes landed on Roman sitting on the floor beside a gorgeous bed, holding Patton’s limp hand in his. He glanced momentarily to Janus, who was outside on the balcony with his elbows resting on the railing. His head was in his hands. 

It was too late… unless they could get the kiss to work this time— god  _ please _ let it work.

Logan’s mouth felt dry, and Remus looked about the same way, the two of them stuck in the doorway. Roman hadn’t looked up when they entered, and he surely didn’t now.

“Roman?” Logan said unsteadily. He’d been so hopeful... Things had been turning around, they—

“I failed,” he croaked, swallowing, “I didn’t make it in time.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not 100% sure when the next part will be out, but I will tell you that you will get more sides in dresses!


End file.
